


Something Like Devotion

by magicknickers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: sortinghatdrabs, Drabble, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicknickers/pseuds/magicknickers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A picture is worth a thousand words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Like Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for week #109 at the livejournal comm sortinghatdrabs. I won first place. :)

_Snap!_

Daphne blinked, a little stunned at the flash of light.

When her vision cleared enough for her to see, she was met with that Gryffindor fifth year—Corbin, was it?--who'd been following her with that ridiculous Muggle camera all week.“That'll be lovely,” he murmured reverently, his amber eyes adoring. Daphne tried not to be flattered by his infatuation, but it was difficult to hate an admirer.

“I'm sure,” Daphne answered. “Corbin, why don't you show it to me when it's—“ She paused. How did one create a Muggle photograph? Drawing a blank, she looked at him questioningly.

“Developed?” he supplied. She nodded, blonde hair falling out from behind her ear. Before she could register what was happening, he leaned over and tucked the strand back into place.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, blushing. Daphne was handling this badly. This boy was a _Mudblood_ and a Gryffindor to boot.

“And my name is Colin,” he added before turning around to leave, “Colin Creevey.” Daphne shook herself, trying not to imagine Pansy's reaction to this if it ever got out.

It was at dinner when the parcel came. An unfamiliar barn owl set it in front of her.

“Who's sending you packages, Greengrass?” Draco asked, nothing more than curiosity in his gaze. As she pulled the stack of photos out—all of her—Daphne smiled.

“A local photographer,” she answered, staring at the one from that day. “It seems I'm his new muse.”


End file.
